When I was in grade school, we occasionally had drills for what we were to do in case of a nuclear attack. We crawled under our desks and the girls were supposed to pull our skirts over our heads. The boys were instructed to shield their faces from flying glass or radiation with their arms. In addition to the regular scheduled drills for when the commies came to get us, we had impromptu drills when a Russian plane would get too close to Alaska and the fighter jets would scramble out of McCord AFB. It would sound like they were breaking the sound barrier right over our heads. We never knew if we’d just been nuked or it was just sonic booms until one bright kid would realize that we hadn’t been vaporized yet and call the all clear. “I can hear jet engines. It was a sonic boom.” Since most of my teachers had gone to school on the GI bill after serving in WWII or Korea, we’d reassure the teacher that he could come out from under his desk and no windows had been broken. One teacher took a fair amount of coaxing. Most of the kids lived with fathers with PTSD, so we understood the situation.

Once out of elementary school, we were given great works of literature to read like On The Beach, a not-so-cheerful tale about the ending of human life after a nuclear holocaust. We were systematically trained to prepare for nuclear war. What really happened was they sent most of my male classmates off to fight a war in Vietnam to stop the commies. We must fear communism. Many of my classmates did fear communism. Maybe my mother read me too many of James W. Riley’s poems. I figured out at an early age that while a scary story or poem might be fun I really didn’t like being afraid. I also figured out that you couldn’t kill an idea with a gun.

So, communism worked to keep enough people afraid until the Soviet Union collapsed. For a few brief moments the population looked out, the sky was blue and we hadn’t been vaporized. All we had left to be afraid of were crack heads and gangs. Remember when we were supposed to be afraid of gangs? Yeah. I remember that.

So, after almost a decade of not much to be afraid of the military industrial complex must have gotten tired of losing money. So we needed something to be afraid of again. This is the point at which we learned to be afraid of terrorists. Being afraid of terrorists is better than being afraid of commies because terrorists can lurk in the park, the grocery store, anywhere. Our military industrial complex has gotten a lot of money out of the fear of terrorism. They’ve gotten trillions and trillions of dollars out of a fear of terrorism. Never mind that you can’t kill an idea with a gun and building universities and cultural centers would be a better deterrent to terrorism. We must kill the people who frighten us.

Fear creates a very effective machine for transferring money from the pockets of the many to the offshore bank accounts of the few. The problem is that only the military industrial complex was making the money. We needed to spread the fear around a bit to benefit more special interests. Somebody decided we needed to fear diseases. Yeah diseases. Like communism and terrorism, nobody does anything really effective to fight the diseases, but the news media ramps up the fear factor and pharmacy companies can get more dollars for research. Chemical companies can get more dollars to kill mosquitoes, while it becomes unclear whether the chemicals are worse than the disease and the simple effective methods for controlling the disease are ignored.

I’m not certain why we are supposed to fear regulation of the banking industry. That one doesn’t make sense, but fear regulation we must. I know people who are afraid of going to hell if they talk to me because I don’t fear the right things. Yup, some people are making money off of religious fear. We are supposed to fear our own government. Um, maybe we should do something about the money issues behind our government instead of just being afraid.

Fear has become so popular that we can now fear people of different ethnic background. What ever happened to the future of Star Trek where we learned to celebrate differences? As we figuratively dive under our desks and pull our skirts over our heads, do we ever ask how reasonable our fears are? Do we ever ask if there is a simple solution to any real problems facing our country?

When we live in fear of vague threats, our neighbors, or disease, we are not free. The oligarchs who own our media and profit from our fears may have constructed the prison of fear. The secret is we don’t have to enter. Turn your back on the fear mongers. Turn off the radio. Turn off the TV. Go outside. Visit a park. Set yourself free. Nothing bad will happen if you do, and all sorts of wonderful things will. The gobble’uns won’t get you.

With the rolling grief we’ve suffered this summer, I thought I’d give us some perspective to help us through the rest of the season. I’ve found that taking a step forward in time and asking what will historians say about the summer of 2016 helps me find hope and comfort. In the future, will historians be able to ignore the summer of 2016? It seems to me with the turmoil in Europe and the US, historians will have something to say. But what? What kind of summer are we having, really? What do the future history books say about the summer of 2016?

*****

“The summer of 2016 was marked with violence as more displaced peoples increased tensions across the globe. Cultures clashed as refugees poured into Europe and North American where the populations were already stressed due to low wages, systematic racial discrimination and economic inequality. Eventually, the blending of cultures led to greater understanding of human commonalities and recognition of basic human rights…” * Oh wait, is that how that sentence ends? Or does it end, “…blending of cultures led to greater inequality, stress and poverty triggering civil wars across Europe and the rest of the globe.” - We don’t know how the sentence ends. Can we influence that end?

*****

“The summer of 2016 marked a point at which the US could have turned toward greater social justice and economic equality. Both black and white people took to the streets to protest systematic racism. Police brutality escalated in response to the demonstrations that then turned more violent toward the police. The backlash against the police escalated until military back-up quashed the movement for justice in the streets. The electoral scene further disheartened the voting public when one political candidate campaigning on the slogan ‘Enough is Enough’ attempted to overturn unjust banking and employment practices. Election fraud was successful in forcing him out of the race and the power elite grew stronger and more secure. The end result being a lost opportunity to change the direction of the nation away from a steady slide into fascism and a police state.” * Or will historians write, “the combination of election fraud and the exposure of police brutality through cell phone recordings caused the people to wake up to the direction their country was headed and demand justice through the courts. They formed initiatives demanding psychological screening for police and used the initiative process to curb the excesses of the banking and finance industries.” * Hm, using initiatives, we can do that.

*****

“The summer of 2016 found the world on the brink of massive civil unrest and another world war. The power elite looking to distract the population from their own increasingly illegal activities chose war with Russia as their distraction, which also satisfied the oligarchs who wanted control over Russian resources. They steadily stationed more troops along the Russian border and instituted a policy of repeated practice drills off the Russian coast hoping to provoke an incident that would give them an excuse for war. Unable to force an incident, NATO forces grew frustrated and bombed London, blaming the Russians and solidifying support for an invasion of Russia.” * Is there a different ending for this scenario? What about “… forces grew frustrated and formed a conspiracy to bomb London and blame Russia, but a hacktivist and a whistleblower teamed up with a real journalist to expose the plot. Europeans already exhausted by constant war and civil unrest, took to the streets and the courts to demand the resignations of all military generals and high-ranking officials. The French took a page from their history and executed all their oligarchs. Chaos reigned across Europe, but by fall interim governments had been set up and protocols to insure honest elections had been drafted.”

*****

“In the summer of 2016 the world sat poised for mass destruction. NATO forces were pushing for war with Russia. The oligarchs were on the brink of solidifying their absolute control over the US war machine, the world supplies of oil, and global fresh water supplies. The summer of 2016 could have seen the death of democracy and with it social justice then someone invented a game called Pokemon Go. People left their houses to go searching for imaginary prizes. They dropped their daily dose of propaganda. They started talking to each other. They started to laugh and have fun. They liked their neighbors and stopped being afraid. When people stopped huddling in front of their news shows, the tide turned against the corrupt establishment. Once the power elite lost control of the people, the people were able to regain control of the government and establish justice. Humanity survived and ushered in a new age based on actually liking other people.”

*****

Human beings are unpredictable. About the time the power elite thinks we are under control, we look up from our daily pursuits and declare, “Hey, that’s not right.” At the point when We The People stop what we are doing and look at the injustice around us and recognize the pure evil behind the injustice, we become very powerful. The oligarchs fear our collective power. We can change our world. What will the catalyst be?

“It’s like watching a train wreck, horrifying, but you can’t look away.”

Lately, I’ve heard people use the above statement when describing our current state of national affairs. It seems to be a pretty accurate statement. Something has derailed and everything following behind derails too. Last week was a major train wreck, and judging from my Facebook and Twitter feeds people couldn’t look away. I found post after post about the shootings, first two black men then five police officers killed. Something derailed and the bodies piled up. People blamed everybody and everything except perhaps the cause of the derailment.

This week, many people’s hopes were dashed when Bernie endorsed Hillary for president ensuring another four years of the same old, same old. The rich get richer and gain more power. People work harder and longer hours and their earnings meet fewer of their needs. The number of homeless continues to grow. My own foster daughter is now facing a threat of homelessness. Of course, she can come live with me although I’m not sure where we will put her, and she will be isolated from all her friends.

Many of us have worked our whole lives to make a difference in the lives of other people. I’ve worked hard to give thousands of children and youth a chance at a stable secure life. Unfortunately, nothing I taught is going to protect a black man from getting shot. Those children I loved will still have their jobs shipped overseas. Kids I stood up for and protected will still be exposed to tainted food and toxic water supplies.

I try to look at the positive notes around me, and I do see many, many people talking about loving one another. We all seem to know the right answer in a Face Book post. I wonder if we all know the answer when confronted with the reality that we are the ones who must control our anger, or we each need to donate ten or twenty dollars to keep an at-risk person in their apartment.

While I was battling my grief and disappointments of the past few weeks, a woman I barely know started a campaign to tell my closest co-workers how terrible I am. Huh? Where did that come from? When something up close and personal hit, I could see it came from the same well of darkness that allows police officers to shoot black men or someone to open fire with an assault rifle on a crowd of demonstrators, police, party-goers or school kids. The minor attack on me came from the same bad teaching that is pitting one group of people against every other group. It came from the same bad teaching that tells people to shoot someone in a bathroom if you think they might not have the same genitals you do. Good grief.

Those who would make money and grow their own power spend millions advertising the idea that your fellow human beings are bad. The only solution to problems is guns. Plus, we must all be afraid of the disease of the day or the terrorist cell of the month.

When will the train wreck stop? When will the bodies stop piling up with no end in sight. I know some look for a divine solution where everybody they fear and hate will be incinerated, and they themselves will emerge rich and powerful. Don’t hold your breath waiting for that one. Equally far-fetched is the idea that the power-elite will suddenly come to their senses, throw the masters of evil into prison and wealth and security will be restored to all. That’s not going to happen either.

Part of our problem in dealing with the derailment of our society is the same false teaching that tells us to hate the black boy crossing the street also tells us the woman working the cash register at the 7-11 doesn’t deserve a living wage. We are told to fear a virus but not the bankers. We are told to hate those people be they brown, white, native, immigrant, women, men, educated or ignorant.

With this pervasive message of fear and hate permeating our society can we ever turn off the TV and smile and wave at the person next door? Can we knock on a door and say, “I see you have a newborn. I have some things my baby outgrew. Can you use them?” It isn’t easy to reconnect with our communities because we have been taught well. I think my neighbor is afraid of going to hell if he speaks to me. The fear of hell may have been driving the woman who had a melt-down over an innocent comment I made. I think it will take us a long time to learn to trust, but if the body count is ever going to stop, we have to try to reconnect and to build communities that can function without the interference of the increasingly more powerful power elite.

Synesthetes occurs when stimulating one sense activates another sense. Since all senses are triggered by energy waves in one form or another, this should not be an outlandish idea. I had not heard of synesthetes as thing until after I started making flower bouquets for Calico Gardens.

At one time, my business partner and I had about ten businesses we delivered to every week. Noni and I would get together and make up the large bouquets the evening before they were to be delivered.

We’d both taken enough art classes to understand color theory. One evening, Noni stopped me and said. “You can’t put that in there. It’s the wrong shade. It doesn’t go.”

I wanted the flower I was holding in the bouquet I was making. I thought it did go. I looked at the flower in my hand and looked at the bouquet. I knew that flower needed to go there. I squinted at the flower and the bouquet then announced, “It does go there. It’s a diminished seventh and will give the bouquet movement. See how this tone will move the eye from here to here to here?” I put my flower in the bouquet.

My diminished seventh was only the first of many such discussions. I’ve stopped her from using an E minor in a key of G major arrangement. Actually, that E minor lily is very picky about what type of arrangement it is in because it has some undertones or grace notes that dictate that it must be used in a minor key.

Many times, Noni shook her head and muttered something about, “If you have a reason for that to be there…”

I’d assure her that this customer likes jazz, so I’d make this a jazz arrangement. Since the customer did indeed like the jazz arrangements I made, Noni blindly accepted the idea that I might know what I was doing, even if I wasn’t using color the way she’d been taught.

Finally one morning, Noni called me all excited about an article she’d read in the paper about people who can hear color and see smells or any other combination of sensory crossover. She’d found a scientific explanation for my odd explanations of why I used the flowers the way I did.

Once we both understood that I can somewhat hear color and apply my background as a pianist to flower arranging, we’ve had fun playing with the idea. She’s learned to hold up the flower that isn’t behaving for her and ask, “What goes with this?”

The part of our relationship that always surprises me is that I can answer her question from the auditory part of my brain. I’ve become aware that I do look at something and process the sound even if I have to strain to listen sometimes.

The ability to construct a song with flowers doesn’t always work the way I want. My church choir was preparing a challenging cantata for Earth Day Sunday. The first soprano line I sang was just plain hard with all sorts of turns, trills and pesky rhythms. I’d practiced and practiced. On the other hand, our Easter Sunday anthem was easy, and I hadn’t spent much time on it. At the last minute, I’d been asked to do the communion table flowers for Easter Sunday, so I thought I’d whip up a massive arrangement that matched the anthem. I put together an arrangement measuring five by three feet. After I thought I got the last flower in, I stepped back looked at the bouquet and realized that I’d made the cantata and not the anthem. I don’t have as much control over my arrangements as I’d like to think. Fortunately, I was probably the only person who knew that I’d produced an arrangement for the wrong piece of music.

Now, that I understand the science behind my perception of color, I wonder how long I’ve been wandering through gardens and humming along. I wonder how much of my immense enjoyment of gardens is due to the double sensory whammy I receive. The only problem occurs when I find myself singing in public gardens or department stores as I walk past pretty colored displays. Even the produce department at the grocery store can stimulate my desire to at least hum what I see.

Understanding the nature of waves that transmit sound and color, I suspect that many people perceive as I do. Without both a job requiring attention to color and a strong background in music theory, most people will never notice the details of perception. However, when I stand in front of an audience and sing, I notice those who have their eyes closed and a beatific expression on their faces. I bet they perceive more than just the sounds. They may sense the vibrations, and see or even smell the whole composition.